My mistress will before the break of day Por. Inquire the Jew's house out, give him Be here at Belmont: she doth stray about By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays For happy wedlock hours.

And neither man, nor master, would take
But the two rings.

Por. What ring gave you, my lord?
Not that, I hope, which you receiv'd of me.
Bass. If I could add a lie unto a fault,
I would deny it; but you see, my finger

Bass. We should hold day with the Anti- Hath not the ring upon it, it is gone.

Por. Let me give light, but let me not be Until I see the ring.

If you did know to whom I gave the ring,
If you did know for whom I gave the ring,
And would conceive for what I gave the ring
And how unwillingly I left the ring,

1

When naught would be accepted but the ring,
You would abate the strength of your displea-

sure.

Por. If you had known the virtue of the ring,
Or half her worthiness that gave the ring,
Or your own honour to contain the ring,
You would not then have parted with the ring.
What man is there so much unreasonable,
If you had pleas'd to have defended it
With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty
To urge the thing held as a ceremony?
Nerissa teaches me what to believe;

I'll die for't but some woman had the ring.

Bass. No, by mine honour, madam, by my
No woman had it, but a civil doctor, [soul,
Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me,
And begg'd the ring; the which I did deny
And suffer'd him to go displeas'd away; [him,
Even he that had held up the very life
Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet
I was enforc'd to send it after him;
[lady?

I was beset with shame and courtesy;
My honour would not let ingratitude
So much besmear it: Pardon me, good lady;
For, by these blessed candles of the night,
Had you been there, I think you would have
begg'd

The ring of me to give the worthy doctor.

Por. Then you shall be his surety: Give him this;

And bid him keep it better than the other. Ant. Here lord Bassanio; swear to keep this ring.

Bass. By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor!

Por. I had it of him: pardon me, Bassanio; For by this ring the doctor lay with me.

Ner. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano; For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk, In lieu of this, last night did lie with me.

Gra. Why this is like the mending of high

ways

In summer, where the ways are fair enough: What! are we cuckolds, ere we have deserv'd it?

Por. Speak not so grossly. You are all
amaz'd:

Here is a letter, read it at your leisure;
It comes from Padua, from Bellario:
There you shall find, that Portia was the doctor,
Nerissa there, her clerk: Lorenzo here
Shall witness, I set forth as soon as you,
And but even now return'd; I have not yet
Enter'd my house. -Antonio, you are welcome;
And I have better news in store for you,
Than you expect: unseal this letter soon;

Por. Let not that doctor e'er come near my There you shall find, three of your argosies house:

And that which you did swear to keep for me, I chanced on this letter.

Are richly come to harbour suddenly:

Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd,

You shall not know by what strange accident

How you do leave me to mine own protection. Gra. Well, do you so: let me not take him then;

For, if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen. Ant. I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels.

Por. Sir, grieve not you; You are welcome
notwithstanding.

Bass. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong;
And, in the hearing of these many friends,
I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes,
Wherein I see myself,-

Por. Mark you but that!

In both my eyes he doubly sees himself:

When I am absent, then lie with my wife.
Ant. Sweet lady, you have given me life,
and living;

For here I read for certain, that my ships
Are safely come to road.

Por. How now, Lorenzo?
My clerk hath some good comforts too for you.
Ner. Ay, and I'll give them him without a
There do I give to you, and Jessica, [fee.-
From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift,
After his death, of all he dies possess'd of.

Lor. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way
Of starved people.

In each eye, one:--swear by your double self, And yet, I am sure, you are not satisfied

And there's an oath of credit.

Bass. Nay, but hear me:

Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear,
I never more will break an oath with thee.

Ant. I once did lend my body for his wealth;*
Which, but for him that had your husband's
ring,
[TO PORTIA.
Had quite miscarried: I dare be bound again,
My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord
Will never more break faith advisedly.

Por. It is almost morning.

Of these events at full: Let us go in;
And charge us there upon intergatories,
And we will answer all things faithfully.
Gra. Let it be so: The first intergatory,
That my Nerissa shall be sworn on, is,
Whether till the next night she had rather stay;
Or go to bed now, being two hours to day:
But were the day come, I should wish it dark,
That I were couching with the doctor's clerk.
Well, while I live, I'll fear no other thing
So sore, as keeping safe Nerissa's ring.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-An Orchard, near OLIVER's House.

Enter ORLANDO and ADAM.

Orl. As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion bequeathed me: By will, but a poor thousand crowns; and, as thou say'st, charged my brother, on his blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part, he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more properly, stays me here at home unkept: For call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses are bred better; for, besides that they are fair with their feeding, they are taught their manage, and to that end riders dearly hired: but I, his brother, gain nothing under him but growth: for the which his animals on his dung-hills are as much bound to him as I. Besides this nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the something that nature gave me, his countenance seems to take from me: he lets me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my gentility with my education. That is it, Adam, that grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I think is within me, begins to mutiny against this servitude: I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy

how to avoid it.

Enter OLIVER.

Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brother. Orl. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up. Oli. Now, Sir! what make you here?*

Orl. Marry, Sir, I am helping you to mar that which God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness.

Oli. Marry, Sir, be better employed, and be

naught awhile.

Orl. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with them? What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should come to such penury?

me.

Oli. Know you where you are, Sir?
Orl. O, Sir, very well; here in your orchard.
Oli. Know you before whom, Sir?
Orl. Ay, better than he I am before knows

I know, you are my eldest brother; and, in the gentle condition of blood you should so know me: The courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that you are the first-born; but the same tradition takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers betwixt us: I have as much of my father in me as you; albeit, I confess, your coming before me is nearer to his

young in this.

Oli. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain?

Orl. I am no villain:* I am the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Bois; he was my father; and he is thrice a villain, that says, such a father begot villains: Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat, till this other had pulled out thy tongue for saying so; thou hast railed on thyself,Adam. Sweet masters, be patient; for your father's remembrance, be at accord.

Oli. Let me go, I say.

Orl. I will not, till I please: you shall hear me. My father charged you in his will to give me good education: you have trained me like a peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities: the spirit of my fa

Orl. Nothing: I am not taught to make any ther grows strong in me, and I will no longer

thing.

Oli. What mar you then, Sir?

Villain is used in a double sense; by Oliver for a worthless fellow, and by Orlando for a man of base exendure it: therefore allow me such exercises | I had myself notice of my brother's purpose as may become a gentleman, or give me the herein, and have by underhand means laboured poor allottery my father left me by testament; to dissuade him from it; but he is resolute. with that I will go buy my fortunes.

Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent? Well, Sir, get you in: I will not long be troubled with you: you shall have some part of your will: I pray you, leave me.

Orl. I will no further offend you than becomes me for my good.

Oli. Get you with him, you old dog.

Adam. Is old dog my reward? Most true, I have lost my teeth in your service. God be with my old master! he would not have spoke such a word. [Exeunt ORLANDO and ADAM. Oli. Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? I will physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand crowns neither. Hola, Dennis! Enter DENNIS.

Den. Calls your worship?

Oli. Was not Charles, the Duke's wrestler, here to speak with me?

Den. So please you, he is here at the door, and importunes access to you.

Oli. Čall him in. [Exit DENNIS.]-'Twill be a good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is. Enter CHARLES.

Cha. Good morrow to your worship. Oli. Good monsieur Charles! - what's the new news at the new court?

Cha. There's no news at the court, Sir, but the old news: that is, the old duke is banished by his younger brother, the new duke; and three or four loving lords have put themselves into voluntary exile with him, whose lands and revenues enrich the new duke: therefore he gives them good leave* to wander.

Oli. Can you tell, if Rosalind the duke's daughter, be banished with her father.

Cha. O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, so loves her,-being ever from their cradles bred together,-that she would have followed her exile, or have died to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no less beloved of her uncle than his own daughter; and never two ladies loved as they do.

Oli. Where will the old duke live?

Cha. They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England: they say many young gentlemen flock to him every day; and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world.

Oli. What, you wrestle to-morrow before the

new duke?

Cha. Marry, do I, Sir; and I came to acquaint you with a matter. I am given, Sir, secretly to understand, that your younger brother, Orlando, hath a disposition to come in disguis'd against me, to try a fall: To-morrow, Sir, I wrestle for my credit, and he that escapes me without some broken limb, shall acquit him well. Your brother is but young, and tender; and, for your love, I would be loath to foil him, as I must, for my own honour, if he come in: therefore, out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you withal; that either you might stay him from his intendment, or brook such disgrace well as he shall run into; in that it is thing of his own search, and altogether against my will.

a

Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which thou shalt find I will most kindly requite.

I'll tell thee, Charles, it is the stubbornest young fellow of France; full of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's good parts, a secret and villanous contriver against me his natural brother; therefore use thy discretion; I had as lief thou didst break his neck as his finger: And thou wert best look to't! for if thou dost him any slight disgrace, or if he do not mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise against thee by poison, entrap thee by some treacherous device, and never leave thee till he hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other: for, I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak it, there is not one so young and so villanous this day living. I speak but brotherly of him; but should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must blush and weep, and thou must look pale and wonder.

Cha. I am heartily glad I came hither to you: If he come to-morrow, I'll give him his payment: If ever he go alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more: And so, God keep your worship!

[Exit.

Oli. Farewell, good Charles. Now will I
stir this gamester:* I hope, I shall see an end
of him; for my soul, yet I know not why, hates
nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle; never
schooled, and yet learned; full of noble de-
vice: of all sortst enchantingly beloved; and,
indeed, so much in the heart of the world, and
especially of my own people, who best know
him, that I am altogether misprised: but it
shall not be so long; this wrestler shall clear
all: nothing remains, but that I kindle the boy
thither, which now I'll go about.
[Exit.

SCENE II.-A Lawn before the Duke's Palace.
Enter ROSALIND and CELIA.

Cel. I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry.

Ros. Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of; and would you yet I were merrier? Unless you could teach me to forget a banished father, you must not learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure.

Cel. Herein, I see, thou lovest me not with the full weight that I love thee: if my uncle, thy banished father, had banished thy uncle, the duke my father, so thou hadst been still with me, I could have taught my love to take thy father for mine; so would'st thou, if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously tempered as mine is to thee.

Ros. Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to rejoice in yours.

Cel. You know, my father hath no child but I, nor none is like to have; and, truly, when he dies, thou shalt be his heir: for what he hath taken away from thy father perforce, I will render thee again in affection: by mine honour, I will; and when I break that oath, let me turn monster; therefore, my sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry.

Ros. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports: let me see; What think you of falling in love?

Cel. Marry, I pr'ythee, do, to make sport withal: but love no man in good earnest: nor no further in sport neither, than with safety of a pure blush thou may'st in honour come off again.